Thursday, March 14, 2013

If you want your children to clean, I recommend any number
of the exterminator reality shows on TV. Now, one might wonder “How many
exterminator shows does one nation need?” Well baby, this is America; you can
have as many exterminator shows as you want.
Now why anyone wants any shows devoted to the eradication of bugs is
another thing.

Well except, it’s particularly helpful when it comes to
motivating children to clean. I stumbled upon this discovery quite by accident.
It all started by allowing the father figure to have control of the remote. If
that happens, well, you get to watch marathons of bug killing.

Visions of people ripping apart walls, bugs cascading down
is really, really disturbing. It should
give any person the heebee jeebees. And it certainly did to Baba. She waltzed
in the house after playing outside all day. Neither Baba nor Baby is
particularly dedicated to cleaning. In fact, I wish I were as blind to other
people’s failing as my children are to errant weeds. However, she was entranced
by the horror that was unfolding on the screen.

First she asked “tWhat is that?” “Oh those are a bunch of
bugs living in someone’s house.” “How’d they get there?” “Oh, they didn’t keep
it very clean.” By this time. She was backing down the hallway, eyes still
fixated on the invasion. Baby came in, stared and asked “What is that?” Baba
bellowed from her bedroom “Baby come here now! We have to clean our room so
there are no bugs!” Mac heard bugs and went charging. He didn’t understanding
the reasoning behind wanting to bugs outside of the home.

Which most likely explains why I found three boxes of earth
worms under his bed. Conscientious son that he is, he did hide the boxes under
his bed, where his mother couldn’t see them. And he also poked holes all over
the boxes, so the worms could breathe. If I had thought about it, I should have
wondered where the boxes containing their new shoes had so conveniently had
disappeared to. I think I was coasting
on my post-exterminator high and assumed they were still fighting bugs. Not
bringing in bugs to feed worms. Although since the worms were invited guests, I
guess I shouldn’t have assumed that exterminators would address worms.

I discovered the worms, not because I was particularly
motivated after a night of observing bug slaughter. I was cleaning, and asked the
Mac to take care of the flowers that he had given me. It’s not that I didn’t
love the bouquets of clover and dandelions. Baby had been bringing me some too.
It’s just Mac’s delivery required refinement. That is, he really needed to stop
flinging open the sliding door, shouting “here mom, these are for you!” And
then running off.

My expectation, and therein was my oversight having any sort
of expectation, was that he would pick up the assorted weeds, given with the
deepest of affection, and stick them in the same plastic cup that Baby selected
for her weeds, err flowers. But instead, ever the multitasking expert, Mac gathered
up the flowers and ran to his room. I knew enough to know that a follow up was
necessary. And that’s when I caught Mac feeding my flowers to his worms.

We returned the worms to their more natural habitat. Next to
the bunny bomb shelters they all had spent all afternoon building. And stocking
with the carrots that I had given them as a snack. I’m not sure where the
bunnies were supposed to come from. It sounded as if they assumed the bunnies
would be the bombs. But I didn’t really follow that up. I had to make sure that
all living creatures were indeed in the backyard.